about
Hip-hop has always been synonymous with big drum beats so “You Know I’m No Good” was a perfect backdrop to showcase this as it starts with and electrifying live drum performance. DL snuck in and took snippets of horn screeches and stabs to then layer over the spacious beats and then went in with Pyrelli to tear the track apart lyrically. Female vocal group “Addictive” were added to provide harmonic value with their beautiful tones and texture as vocalists.
lyrics
Intro x4 [Addictive]
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Verse One [DL]
[Hold on] I told you I was trouble
6 foot 1, short hair, black stubble
And I will never fold dude I’m bout to raise you double
There’s no sweet boys here so kill ya Hubba Bubbles
I been around the block like more than a couple, I’m classic
So I don’t give a rats nuts if the cap fits
Champion like Dilla and Madlib
And playa’ this ain't no act like Brad Pitt
People talking like Funky is mad sick
The way I flip around a beat that’s some bad shit
I can put you on the floor like a back spin
And I do the opposite of an aspirin
The type of dude who is telling not asking
So please stay out my way if I’m passing
And my team’ll stay sharp like a javelin
And we’ll dribble that ball without travelling [haaa!]
You can call me ignorant
But I don’t – really – give – a – shit
Low down dirty rotten apple
And I ain’t looking no beef I ain’t cattle
Battle?? I aint that guy
Open mics all day? Fuck I aint that high
You can be my protégé, I’ll mould you
But remember I’m trouble I told you!
Chorus [Amy]
I told you I was trouble [x3]
Yeah you know that I’m no good
Refrain [Addictive]
I told I was trouble [x4]
[various phrases]
Verse Two [Pyrelli]
They call me Mr. Lazy, the one all of the girls like
The one the haters wanna fight, my future looks so bright
When the weather’s mucky push a clean buggy
Through the streets of the gritty city, catch me dipping in the Turnpike
I learn mics so I earn right burn guys
It’s my birth right, rhyming like I’m on my third strike
So blame the melanin, they ill but they ain’t sick as this
My flair clear up that congestion Benylin
I get’s it in whistle and flute no bow tie
With my nigga Funky DL, we from the Eastside
And this how G’s ride, fuck the jail time
We conspire, turned the game into shook bitches, perspire
I serve fire as my appetizer
Blazing each show in 4D, there’s nothing liver
I’m a troublemaker, straight bubble break ya’
Flying clotheslines, Lariat’s with Haymakers
We catch the worms soon as they breaks
Cos me and my team supreme they can’t break us
United in this bitch pulling big boy capers
Its big business and the motherfucking briefcases
You know what this is, the Consist, the Instigator
Classic shit, back to rap, nothing greater
Ha! You down with us and you know we love you
Against us and it’s motherfuck you, I’m trouble!
Chorus [Amy]
Refrain [Addictive]
[various phrases / fade out]
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